


A Hesitant Yes

by constipatedmuse



Series: how many morons does it take to stop the apocalypse? [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Gun Violence, Jimmy Hoffa - Freeform, Nausea, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partners in Crime, Reader-Insert, Tags May Change, Weapons, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constipatedmuse/pseuds/constipatedmuse
Summary: Reader is a Commission agent who needs help with a difficult case.Prequel to "No," although it can be a separate fic, or you can read them in any order.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Original Female Character(s), Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Reader, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Original Female Character(s), Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Reader
Series: how many morons does it take to stop the apocalypse? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914334
Kudos: 29





	A Hesitant Yes

"Y/N, this is Five," the Handler said. Turning to Five, she continued. "And Five, this is Y/N."  
I stuck my hand out. "Good to meet you, Five. Your reputation precedes you."  
He glanced at my hand, then walked away, planting himself in one of the chairs instead of acknowledging me.  
The Handler grinned. "I told you," she stage-whispered.  
Amused, I stared after Five for a moment. "Indeed," I muttered. Then, I turned back to the Handler. "Well, if you'll excuse us, we've got business to discuss," I said, gesturing to the door.  
"Aw, I can't stay and scheme?" she pouted.  
"I think we'll be fine without you," I answered, a little coldly.  
"Alright," she said, walking out into the hall. "But if you need any help --"  
"We know where you are," I finished. I shut and locked the door before spinning around to face Five, who was wearing a very small smile that disappeared as soon as I noticed it.  
I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "She's insufferable."  
"Agreed," Five said.  
I walked over to the opposite side of the desk from Five and slumped into the chair. "I need your help," I said.  
"So I've heard. Jimmy Hoffa, right?"  
"Exactly. He's got a hidden panic room that not even we can penetrate. Every time I show up, he just locks himself inside."  
"So you need me to get inside the room."  
"Precisely," I said. "I already have the briefcase. Are you ready?"  
"When you are."  
In a flash, we were gone.

* * *

We reappeared in 1975.  
"That's Hoffa's building," I said, pointing at it. I checked my watch. "He's at lunch right now, which gives us about... 20 minutes to get in position."  
"Lead on," Five said, gesturing for me.  
As I walked to the entrance, I quickly inventoried my weapons, patting each of them in turn.  
"You don't use guns?" Five asked.  
I grinned. "Oh, have they stopped gossiping about me? They used to warn all the newbies," I said with a shrug. "I don't like guns. They're too... impersonal."  
"I used to know someone like that," he said, almost wistfully. "He used knives."  
"I have those, too," I added, patting a few of my hidden blades. In quick succession, I listed my other weapons. "My bracelet has a garrote, one of my earrings has poison in it, and my barrettes are multitools. Oh, and I do have a gun in my ankle holster."  
Five blinked in surprise. "I think we're going to get along famously."  
"Like a house afire," I concurred.  
When we reached the sidewalk in front of Hoffa's building, I held up my hand to stop Five.  
He rolled his eyes.  
I stepped up next to the door and briefly looked inside. "There are three security guards," I reported, leaning back against the side of the building.  
He leaned around me to verify what I'd said, then held out his hand.  
I took it, and we were instantly on the stairwell behind the guards.  
"Do not throw up," he hissed.  
"I wasn't planning to," I retorted, although my stomach wasn't as sure of that declaration.  
Five scoffed, but stepped aside.  
I led the way up the stairs, keeping an eye out for any other guards. I could see Five doing the same in my peripheral vision.  
Hoffa's office was on the second floor, unguarded.  
"I guess Jimmy didn't expect anyone to make it past his guards," I observed.  
Five ignored me, jumping past the locked door to verify that it was empty. Seconds later, he opened the door for me.  
"It's a bit dark in here," I murmured. "He should have more windows."  
"That would make assassinations easier," Five responded dryly.  
"Point taken."  
Back on task, Five asked, "So where's the safe room?"  
I pointed to an inconspicuous bookshelf. "Behind that."  
He hesitated. "You're sure you're not going to barf?"  
I scowled. "I'm sure," I said, holding my hand out.  
"Okay," he said, grabbing me and zapping us inside.  
I lurched back for a moment, as I tried to convince my stomach that our lunch really did belong in there. When I got my bearings and looked up, I yelped in surprise.  
Five was holding a pistol inches from my face.  
I raised my hands. I'd shown Five where I'd squirreled away my weapons, and I wanted him to know I wasn't reaching for any of them.  
"That's Hoffa's body in the corner over there, isn't it?" he said, quietly.  
I slowly nodded.  
"So what," he continued, narrowing his eyes, "exactly was your plan?"  
I swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. "I really do need your help, Five," I began. "I need your help stopping the apocalypse."  
The barrel of Five's gun briefly wavered. "The apocalypse can't be stopped. It has to happen."  
I dropped my hands in disgust. "I'm sure you've convinced the Commission that you're Team Apocalypse, but I know better."  
He sneered. "Then, I should kill you, so no one else finds out."  
"Is the Commission's stupidity contagious?" I asked. "Because I'm offering you help with the one thing you've been working on for literal decades, and you want to kill me?"  
He faltered, but kept the gun raised. "Why do you want to stop the apocalypse?"  
"We all come from somewhere, Five. The Commission doesn't grow us in test tubes," I answered.  
Five continued staring at me.  
"I don't know," I added, thoughtfully. "The Handler might've been grown."  
Five smirked for a split second, then dropped the barrel of his gun an inch. "The Commission really can't penetrate these walls?" he asked.  
"They really can't," I said.  
"If you're lying to me, I'll make sure you die in the most horrible way I can think of. There'll be acid, car batteries, needles..." he trailed off. "I'll kill you before they can kill me."  
"I'm quite sure you would," I said. "But I've been working on this for years, too, you know. I just can't figure out how to get back without them immediately following me. Plus, I don't even know how to begin to stop something as powerful as the apocalypse." I threw my hands up in frustration.  
"I do," he said, finally lowering his weapon completely. "Well, I have a start. And I'm so close to finding the correct equation to go home." He sighed.  
I tentatively smiled. "So... partners?" I asked.  
"I suppose," he begrudgingly agreed. Then, he pointed at me with his gun. "But I'm going to save my family. Don't get in the way of that."  
I raised my hands again. "I wouldn't dare."


End file.
